


Stockholm Syndrome

by SashaPennington



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Stammer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-06 03:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19054738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaPennington/pseuds/SashaPennington
Summary: The invitation had been merciful, or at least had seemed as such. In reality it began a new game of manipulation between them. This time Justin doesn't intend to lose.





	1. Bird Behind Bars

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been able to watch the last Avengers movie. I'll try not to let it be so obvious. This is something I've wanted to write for years though, before the universe was so full. I'll try to keep Tony as ic as I can.

The third 'incident' is the one that marks a difference. Sitting in the small visitors box, he had expected his mother, a lawyer, maybe an ex with blackmail. Not Tony Stark. He grins, genuinely surprised, when the man sits down on the opposite side of the glass. He winces, having momentarily forgotten that his jaw has been bruised severely, but his reaction stays upbeat. He hasn't had a visitor since his first week in the can, and that was over business. Or, lack of, really.

"I was wondering when you'd be in here."

Tony looks like shit. Expensive shit, but shit all the same. Inmates on his level aren't allowed to watch the news. Justin's heard pieces of the outside war, but for the most part, he has no idea of the hell Tony's been through. The best he can guess is that Spiderkid is dead and there had been a Stark-Strange affair. Had.

Justin doesn't need to glance at Tony's hand to know that he's no longer married. Justin's had that much of a tail on him. It's expensive, and he's almost officially on the broke side, but he'll be damned if he can't keep up with at least that tidbit of information. 

Tony's kept an eye on him, too, obviously. It's too convenient for him to choose this time to show up. It isn't hard to surmise that Stark's more than likely the one that had the other men in the 'incidents' moved to a different prison. Justin had thought it'd been a reward; he's one of the most hated guests. No one would tell him otherwise. The guards sneer, but even they've started avoided him, no longer kicking at him or even slinging taunts his way. The lack of reprimand is eating at him more than he'd care to admit.

Tony takes off his sunglasses, carefully folding them and sliding them into his breast pocket. His hands fold on his lap. He stares Justin down with an expression that wipes the grin off of his face: he knows. Justin had expected as much, but that there's no doubt now leaves a cold pit in his stomach. He had been raped, and Tony Stark knows. 

Justin's arms cross over his chest. He takes on a petulant pose. 

"So what is it then? What, you need my help? Some Hammer tech added to that freak show you've got?"

It isn't likely. Tony tilts his head slightly, already irritated, and Justin shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't like being sized up. He averts his eyes. Suddenly a spot on the edge of the glass has became important. 

"Come home with me."

The laugh is abrupt, shocked. Justin raises his head to stare the joke down. Tony hasn't changed, doesn't have the slightest tell. If he did, Justin wouldn't be able to read it. As much as he's studied the man, it's done him no good. He chuckles again, humorlessly, and looks around the near-empty room. The guards aren't paying them any mind, suspiciously so. He looks back to Tony. Stark's arranged something, obviously. 

"What? Have you finally lost it there, Anthony?"

There are dark circles under Tony's eyes, worry lines that could add on a decade to his age. Justin isn't the cause for it, he knows. It's Parker, Strange, Pepper, anyone but him. It's the war and the blood and the weapons and Steve-fucking-Rogers, who Justin's pretty sure has fucked Tony at least once. Because of such, he can't find any pity in his heart for Stark. Not after what he's suffered. Before, maybe. Not now. 

Tony doesn't say anything. Seconds creep by in uncomfortable silence. Justin fidgets. Tony's found the same spec; it's just as important to him. 

Finally, Justin scoffs. 

"Why? What could you possibly offer me that --"

Tony makes eye contact with him again. There's something haunted there, a reflection of Justin's own soul. Again he's stuck with the impression that Stark knows. He's kept an eye on him and doesn't like the results. It's more than that, though. There's an anger in him that has nothing to do with anything but this very moment, this place, with Justin. 

"Protection."

Justin swallows. He tells himself that the tears swelling in his eyes are due from stress, from allergies, from anything but shame as he blinks them away. One damn near escapes. He catches it with the palm of a bruised hand, determined not to let Tony Stark of all people see him cry. A swell of hatred -- for Tony, himself, the center, everything, the whole damn world -- hits him. His teeth grind, his arms cross again, he shakes his head. Hair falls in his eyes; he needs a cut. 

If anyone can get him out of the shithole he's calling home, it's Stark. Logic tells him this. Pride tells him something else: bang your fist on the table, stand, cause a scene, get thrown back into solitary. 

"I can't have eyes on your back constantly in here. Come on, Hammer, think. You'll have free roam of 76% of my facility, not to mention you'll be able to work again. Unless you want to spend the next decade playing Jenga and cuddling up at night with your next sparring partner?"

Justin swallows again, trying to think up a smartass comment. The best he can manage is something about the food quality. He keeps his mouth shut instead, biting the inside of his cheek. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable and sore. He doesn't have the words for how angry he is, how badly he wants to tear everything around him to pieces. Tony wouldn't understand; no one who hasn't been in his situation could. Something in Stark's eyes are telling him otherwise though, that every bit of hatred flowing through him is met by its equal.

Nearly a full minute passes. 

It's a game, he knows. Tony wouldn't let him near any type of tech without having a play. It's hard to think clearly, but that much is common sense.

Justin tries to focus, to weigh his options. Tony waits him out. Hammer wants to ask a dozen questions, most of which deal with who's been in Stark's pants lately. He doesn't. It's petty and childish, and it's what's at the core of what he wants. That's something he can figure out on his own though, once he's given time to do so around the other man.

In the end, it's a simple decision. Complex results, but an easy enough question. His hand had been covering his mouth. He lowers it to fold them both over his knee.

When the corner of Justin's mouth turns up in a slight smirk, Tony knows his answer. He raises his hand to make a lazy gesture at the guards.


	2. Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote in 15. It's crap. Sorry.

"76% might have been an overreach on my part. Let's say 40%, 43% at the most for now. Sound fair?"

The grand tour of Stark Tower panned out to being the top floors, Stark's personal room aside. Justin has a whole floor to himself, directly below Tony's. A whole floor to himself. It's a step below owning his own condo, but considering the hell he had been stuck in, he can't complain. (That a floor is more impressive than his previous home is something he's bitter enough over that he's in denial.)

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Anthony, it's great. Spectacular. Just one question. What about --"

Almost on cue, the door to his floor -- his own, personal floor in Stark Tower, sweet Mary in a corset-- opens with a redhead storming through. Tony has his back to Pepper, his arms crossed over his chest. He had been preparing himself for her the moment his idea began to formulate. She hadn't known a thing about it. If she had, Hammer wouldn't have stepped foot inside of the building.

"Well, hey! Isn't it--"

She gives him a look, quieting him immediately. He mouths 'okay' to himself, watching as she literally grabs Tony by the ear, pulling him from the room.

"That explains why I wasn't given a tour of the top. Maybe later."

He keeps himself company, talking to himself and piddling around with the tech Tony had spread out on the tables throughout the room. Nearly an hour goes by before Stark shows himself again. It's long enough time for Justin to bullshit the upsides of going back to his cell. He almost has himself convinced by the time Tony does a walk of shame through the door.

"Yeah, sorry about that. She didn't get the memo." 

Tony clasps his hands together. A moment of awkwardness passes by before Justin speaks.

"So, did she -- am I staying, or what? What's happening here, Tony?"

Tony nods, does an uncomfortable movement with his hands. Justin can't find it within himself to care that the other man was chastised. If anything, it's funny. His small chuckle is more from uncertainty than actual humor though. He doesn't like Tony's expression.

"Yeah, just, uh . . Stay on this floor. If you step foot on any other floor, the guards will shoot on sight."

Justin considers this over for a few seconds before saying a soft 'huh' to himself. The air is still tense with something unsaid. Justin has a feeling he knows what it is.

"So . . how do I get out of the building? Jump out of the window?"

Justin chuckles again, but Tony looks like he's considering it. Another second ticks by before Stark forces a smile. 

"Right. How about . . Yeah, come on."

Tony heads in the direction of the main door. Justin follows behind him, confused.

"Didn't you just say --"

Tony waves him off, exiting the room. 

"Yeah, but if you're leaving right now, I don't think anyone will shoot you. Maybe. Let's see."

Justin glances back at what was almost his work-space, stuttering as he follows Tony. He looks for guards on his way into the elevator, all the while asking Stark where they're going, completely at the man's mercy. 

"You'll see. Come on."


	3. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all that I had time to finish before work. I'll try to post something more in depth this weekend.
> 
> Placebo - Runnin' Up That Hill

"This is a nice place you've got here, Anthony, really nice."

Tony hadn't said more than ten words for the whole drive to his home. Justin counted them, rolling over each one in his mind repeatedly, searching for hidden meanings where they weren't. It took him half the duration of the trip to figure out where they were headed, and then he didn't believe his luck. Tony Stark's home? It had to be a trap. The Hulk would be there to smash him, Fury would take his eye, Rogers would body slam him. And then there is the Widow. Paranoia began to eat at him alive, long before he left his cell. 

If it were another time, he would convince himself that he could do this; the Avengers need him. Even he isn't that delusional. Still, Tony approves of him. That has to be a step in the right direction. 

While in prison, he might have ordered an elaborate hit out on Pepper.

"It's been remodeled. You'll have a bedroom down the hall from where I'm at. I'll have someone take you to get some clothes and other personal belongings tomorrow. For now, just, uh, take a shower and get a feel of the place."

Tony leaves him then, vanishing to a lower floor, supposedly to work. Justin watches his back as he goes, his mouth open.

"Right. Okay."


End file.
